


ascension

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha troll timeline, Flush-crush, God Tier, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Kankri Vantas, and you never realized that words kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ascension

**Author's Note:**

> quick heads up, pre!injury mituna so hes coherent and super fucking intelligent and magnificent and gr8 p much
> 
> aaaaand taking the whole theme of pre and post scratch having their tags inverted and flipping the spectrum with their names as such:
> 
> damara - corrosiveCatastrophe  
> rufioh - compulsiveAlacrity  
> mituna - tachyphrasiaCoupled  
> kankri - consequentialisticTheandric  
> meulin - aulicGaleanthropy  
> porrim - gynocentricCachaemic  
> latula - gamingAnosmiac (i'm such a jerk olol)  
> aranea - ascertainedCollegiate  
> horuss - cloppingGalvanism  
> kurloz - theocraticAnchorite  
> cronus - astereotypicalThalassiarchy  
> meenah - anarchisticAdamantine

When Karkat asks you why you deal with _him_ , you always are quick to resume your lectures with a vengeance; it usually gets him off your tail, and gets him wanting to leave. You try to hide the pain that causes you, the single question he asks. You try to hide your scars, but you never want to mention it because it would reopen wounds you prefered to keep closed. Being triggered constantly by your dancestor is a lot easier than admitting that at one time you had hurt someone so deeply as you did. You used to be different, before the game, before everything. In fact, Karkat reminded you a lot of your old self. It was the sole reason that you warned him constantly to use triggers, to mind himself, and to be careful. You never wanted him to experience what you had experienced.

Much less did you want someone to experience what Cronus experienced.

Sometimes you were so friendly with Cronus because you would admit it, you were paler than snow for him. Sometimes. Other times you had something like flushed feelings, like the sentiments you felt for Latula, but very, very badly so. You only admitted in silence that you wanted him as a matesprit, but no. You only allowed him into the pale quadrant, and even kept that a secret; you were afraid that someone would make a comment about what you did and dredge up those terrible, terrible memories again. And you definitely never told him of the redder feelings you had in your blood pusher, because oh. You could never subject him to you after what you'd done to him.

You hated remembering, so much. So, so very much. You hated to sleep, because it made you remember all over again.

Your name is Kankri Vantas, and once upon a time, you learned that words were the deadliest weapon.

And when you sleep, you remember.

* * *

 

* * *

You didn't know what even started the whole conversation. You were making one of your lengthy memos. Or rather, ranting on one of your extensive memos, growing to the very end of your short fuse.

  
CCT: If we were t9 actually functi9n c9gnitively as a wh9le unit instead 9f c9nstantly warring against each 9ther--n9 thanks t9 Meenah, I might add--we might actually 6e a6le t9 acc9mplish s9mething! H9nestly, y9u all d9n't seem t9 realize h9w much time we're wasting which c9uld 6e put t9 s9mething m9re invalua6le t9 9ur entire purp9se in this game. I d9n't actually feel as th9ugh I've 6een getting thr9ugh t9 any9ne and it's getting very, very ann9ying!  
CURRENT astereotypicalThalassiarchy [CAT] RIGHT NOW responded to memo Y9u are all 6l99dy f99ls.  
CAT: hey kan, vwhatre you so stressed about? seriously, i vwould suggest you take a chill pill or something.  
CCT: And Y9U!  
CAT: vwhoa vwhat? vwhat about me.  
PGC: O+h co+me o+n, Kankri, wo+uld yo+u just calm do+wn? Yo+u're go+ing to+ say so+mething yo+u'll regret if yo+u co+ntinue o+n as yo+u are in this kind o+f rage.  
CCT: N9, y9u kn9w what, P9rrim? This has 6een l9ng 9verdue and frankly I am s9 tired 9f every9ne that I will n9t censure myself f9r the 6enefit 9f a gr9up 9f ins9lents that refuse t9 heed my warnings! L99k at where Meenah's meddling g9t her--killed!  
PAC: Honestly! Kankri, I 8elieve you're going way over the line! I must agree with Porrim here, you are definitely going to say something you don't mean and then someone's feelings are going to 8e hurt!  
CCT: I have spent this entire game trying t9 c9ver f9r every9ne's mistakes, Aranea, and I am s9 tired 9f everything that I d9n't CARE. May6e s9me9ne w9uld learn if their feelings were hurt.  
CAT: vwhoa, looks like someone seriously needs to calm dowvn. kan, vwere just vworried for you.  
CCT: Like hell y9u are!  
FAA: holy shell  
FAA: am i seain what im seain at the moment  
CCT: W9uld y9u just 6e QUIET?  
CAT: come on man, dont be that vway. vwere trying to act in your best interests here.  
CCT: My 6est interests?  
CCT: My 6est INTERESTS?  
CCT: What w9uld 6e in my 6est interests w9uld 6e f9r y9u t9 shut up, Cr9nus! Can y9u n9t fucking 9pen y9ur eyes f9r 9NE m9ment t9 realize the w9rld d9es n9t rev9lve ar9und y9u? H9w many FUCKING times have my mem9s turned int9 y9ur pers9nal drama 69ards, may I ask? And Y9U have the NERVE t9 say that y9u're simply "acting in my 6est interests"? If I haven't smelled h99f6east excrement! H9nestly, it w9uld 6e in EVERY9NE'S 6EST INTEREST if y9u just ST9PPED. PERI9D. N9b9dy fucking cares a69ut y9u anyways. It'd 6e a fucking welc9me if y9u just 6utt 9ut 9f what y9u're n9t welc9me t9 ruin. G9 ahead! Take a l9ng walk 9ff a sh9rt fucking pier! 9ur truce is 9ver with, nada, c9mpletely fucking zip! I d9n't care anym9re, and n9 9ne else d9es. D9 us all a fav9r, w9uld y9u?  
CAT: ...  
FAA: oh my god  
FAA: are you fucking kidding me  
PAC: Kankri! How could you say something like that? Do you even realize how terri8le you just acted?  
PGC: I can't believe I'm asking this... Cro+nus? Are yo+u o+kay?  
CURRENT astereotypicalThalassiarchy [CAT] ceased responding to memo.  
FAA: so T)(ATS what happened  
FAA: hot damn  
PGC: Future things, I presume?  
FAA: yeah  
FAA: if i kelp you out with the knowing bullship then araneas going to cull my bass man  
FAA: have fun asshoals  
FUTURE anarchisticAdamantine [FAA] ceased responding to memo.  
PGC: Mituna, if yo+u co+uld be a darling and ban Kankri fro+m the memo+? I think he needs so+me time to+ co+o+l o+ff and realize what exactly he's just said.  
FUTURE tachyphrasiaCoupled [FTC] 40 MINUTES FROM NOW responded to memo.  
FTC: 5UR3 7H1NG P0RR1M!  
CCT: N9, 9h my g9d n9 y9u 6etter n9t 6an me fr9m my 9wn fucking MEM9!  
FTC: 50RRY 8R0 8U7 7H3 L4DY 45K3D  
FTC: 8351D35, 1M 1NCL1N3D 70 4GR33 W17H H3R  
FTC: 7H47 W45 4 PR377Y W1CK3D 8URN 4ND N07 1N 4 G00D W4Y 8(  
FTC banned CCT from responding to memo.

Oh, how badly you had erred. Being left to your own devices for a few hours, destroying imps out of badly misplaced anger and frustration, you slowly came to your senses. The more you thought about what you'd said.

After you managed to erase the last of your anger, killing off another imp and reaping a large heaping of grist, you stood, regaining your breath, muscles burning and hands shaking. You kept on repeating what you said in your mind. Your blood pusher was almost burning a hole through your throat with the rush of emotion that you felt as you finally fucking realized the severity of your words.

"Oh, no."

You couldn't believe what you had actually said to him. You couldn't believe you told Cronus to cull himself. You couldn't believe that you told him all of those demeaning, demoralizing things. You couldn't believe it. And yet, you said it. You said every word. You're not sure if you even meant them. All you know was that it wasn't the right thing to say. It wasn't a good thing at all to say. You were shaking, unable to speak, unable to breathe as you sat yourself down, carefully, captchaloging your sickles again. You put a hand to your face, starting to tremble, taking in a small, gasping breath. Oh, god. Oh,  _god_. How was Cronus even taking that?

You were tentative to troll him. You didn't want to troll him. You were afraid, afraid that you had lost a friend, afraid you'd lost an important troll to you because of your inability to commit to a moirail, your inability to vent your emotions to someone. You pulled out your husktop, still shaking, and looked on Trollian. Cronus was online? Oh, thank god. You clicked on his tag, opening a chat window with him.

\--  consequentialisticTheandric [CT] began trolling astereotypicalThalassiarchy [AT] \--  
CT: Cr9nus? Are y9u there?  
CT: Cr9nus, I am s9 s9rry.  
CT: I d9n't kn9w why I th9ught that saying th9se things w9uld ever 6e 9kay.  
CT: It was a mistake that I sh9uld never had made, and I h9pe t9 find a way t9 make it up t9 y9u. I wish f9r y9u t9 kn9w that I am s9, s9, s9 sincerely s9rry.  
CT: I sh9uld have listened t9 P9rrim. I sh9uld have, 6ut I didn't. I d9n't kn9w why I didn't 69ther taking her advice int9 acc9unt. I had 6een gr9wing increasingly irritated and my aggravati9n ended up hitting a 69iling p9int and I ended up venting 9ut my anger 9n y9u.  
CT: It's n9t an excuse. It c9uld never 6e an excuse. That w9uld 6e a truly terri6le excuse.  
CT: ... Cr9nus?  
CT: Cr9nus, are y9u there?  
CT: Cr9nus, please, I'm s9 s9rry.  
CT: I kn9w I d9n't deserve t9 ask anything 9f y9u. I d9n't deserve it at all.  
CT: 6ut y9u're a 6etter tr9ll than I am, Cr9nus, and I kn9w y9u w9uld 6e m9re willing than I t9 f9rgive and f9rget.  
CT: D9 I kn9w y9u well en9ugh, even, t9 make such a claim?  
CT: ...Cr9nus...?  
CT: Against my 6etter judgment, I feel as th9ugh s9mething has g9ne h9rri6ly wr9ng. I might 6e c9mpletely inaccurate in this guess, 6ut perhaps in an attempt t9 pr9ve myself, I'm g9ing t9 arrive 9n y9ur w9rld in a few m9ments.  
CT: Will y9u greet me?  
CT: ... I w9uldn't either.  
\-- consequentialisticTheandric [CT] ceased trolling astereotypicalThalassiarchy [AT] \--

You cautiously closed your husktop, swallowing heavily as you clasp your hands together against your chest. A chill had come over you, and it was not a welcome omen. You took in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and assure yourself it was nothing. You closed your eyes, trying to see with your powers, through your class, but you could see nothing but the cold that chilled your veins to the very core. You shivered, exhaling sharply, and then put your husktop back into your captchalog. You were considering asking anyone if they had heard from Cronus since you'd harmed him so intimately. You didn't feel like it; you didn't feel they would even want to talk to you after what you said.

You made your way through the various portals, from your world to his, and when you arrived, you instantly knew something was off. The world was so...silent.

You tensed up, frowning heavily, looking around and moving cautiously. You couldn't see Cronus. No, rather, Cronus wasn't here. You were worrying now, nerves and anxiety chewing you completely raw. You furrowed your brow, clenching your fists slightly as you surveyed the surrounding scenery. There were no denizens either. There was nothing but choking, suffocating silence that threatened to consume you whole. For a fleeting moment, you revisited the idea of pestering everyone to figure out if Cronus had went with them before realizing they would probably still not want to speak with you, especially if Cronus was there. And you had a feeling, that you hadn't actually looked everywhere. Running a second cursory glance over the area made you realize that there was something you missed.

You blined as you saw his hive, and your brow furrowed as your heart started to hammer again. You wondered if he was there, and frankly, anxiety started to eat at you again as you slowly resolved to at least check there first before having to deal with getting shit from everyone for your simply unacceptable behavior. You made your way to his hive slowly; you couldn't afford to make a mistake, so you had to think everything through thoroughly. At least, that was the lie you told yourself. In reality, it was something more like you were terrified of what you didn't know and couldn't control. You were afraid of the rejection that you were sure to receive. You were afraid of what you couldn't see with your Seer vision. You were afraid that you were so blinded, and couldn't anticipate the next action.

All that mattered right now to you was making everything up to Cronus. And frankly, you would do anything. So you finally found yourself at the door, hand poised to knock, body tense and trembling with anxiety and nervousness. Really, the idea of knocking seemed ridiculous. It was so unbelievably ridiculous because seriously, you had just broken his heart and maybe many other thinks, maybe even his mind. You couldn't make yourself just  _knock_ and he was more likely to reject you than answer, even. You laughed at yourself for your stupidity, shaking, the anxiety spiking yet again as your hand fell to the door-knob--only to find the door open, as when you put pressure on the door-knob the door creaked open ever so slightly. And the fact that it wasn't even completely closed, that it wasn't locked, had your jiterriness dying away with a sense of uncontrollable dread. You swallowed, feeling ice in your throat, everywhere, and looked at the crack in the door. Dare you open it?

Dare you venture inside the house of the person you broke?

Dare you do what you're so terrified of doing? You don't even know anymore.

So you do it.

You swung the door right open and

you lost all

the air

in your lungs

because there he was

his head tilted slightly down

his eyes were wide

almost bloodshot in a strange way

they looked strangely glassy and lifeless to you

oh he was so pale

so deathly pale

there was evidence of tears running down his cheeks

little dark splotches from tear tracks staining his pallid skin

his lips were tinted a light violet and looked strangely chapped

his mouth was contorted in a way that made him appear as though he were grieving, as though he wanted to sob

but he couldn't

oh god no he couldn't

his hair was slightly messy as though he had been running his fingers through it

or perhaps after wiping his face to stem the tears

his hands were limp at his side

shoulders slumped from the weight of his hopelessness

heels neatly placed side by side with his toes slightly lowered

because of gravity

gravity which held him hanging

gravity which caused the rope to bite into his skin

gravity which helped him kill himself. 

"C-C-Cronus?"

You were pale, almost completely pallid. You were shaking. You wished you'd never opened the door, wished you never saw this. You couldn't believe it. You were completely frozen to your place, and your knees felt strangely weak. You couldn't breathe, and everything was cold. Your face was cold, your hands were cold, your nose was cold, your knees were cold, your shins were cold, your toes were cold, everything chilled with an icy terror upon realizing what you had done. Oh, god.

"God, no, please-"

You were in complete disbelief as you felt a wetness to your face, and you realized you were crying. You wanted so desperately to fall to your knees and cry. But you couldn't. No, you were resigned to standing there like a fool, like a stupid fool, learning how truly terrible your words were. You ached inside, your blood pusher was threatening to burn a hole through your chest from how hard and hot it was thumping, and you wondered. Oh, what was wrong? It was pumping so hot, yet you felt so scathingly cold. Shaking, and sobbing in a twisted confusion, you realized that you couldn't heed your knees desire to buckle and fall to the ground in a broken, sobbing wreck. You couldn't leave him there. You had to get him down; there was no way you could leave him hanging there, heart-broken and miserable and hopeless with the rope around his neck being the only consolation in his misery which you alone had strengthened to the breaking point.

You did this.

This was all your fault.

You reached into your captchalog with trembling hands, seizing a sickle and reaching up as tall as you could - having to get on your tip-toes to be able to reach the edge of the rope - and making quick swiping motions with the blade, to cut it as fast as you possibly could. You didn't want him hanging any longer. You didn't want him there. You didn't want him to suffer.

You caused this.

You're the only one to blame.

You managed to cut the rope, and his body fell succinctly with a clean, and loud, thudding sound that left you cringing. You looked down at him, laying sprawled on the floor of his hive, wide-eyed and looking so broken and you couldn't help it anymore. You fell to your knees, finally heeding their screaming, and crawled over to him, burying your face into his shirt, clinging onto him as though he were your lifeline, and you wept. You cried freely, shaking with hiccups and tremors that wracked both his and your own forms. He didn't react at all to your misery. He didn't react to your regret. He couldn't, after all, he was  _dead._ Holy fuck, he was dead, and it was you who did it.

You realized, you finally fucking learned how powerful words were. You realized how heavy an effect your words had. You realized they weren't just words; you realized you couldn't dismiss them as  _just words_ because they weren't just words. They were little tiny daggers, ones that you took with wordsmithing and honed, constucted an incomprehensibly lethal sword which you used to brutally stab Cronus to death. But no, you didn't just stab him to death. You took everything he had and destroyed it. You cut the only tie to sanity and hope he had left, leaving him nothing. You killed him. You killed Cronus. You were a murderer. You were the only one to blame and you deserved this. You deserved to feel like shit. You deserved to feel like the monster you were. You deserved to feel like your heart was breaking, you deserved to feel this cold pit of icy desolation in your stomach, and you deserved to feel this terrible kind of loss.

You were the only one to blame.

You continued to stay there for a while, now curled up to next to his body, clinging onto his side and face buried into his neck, breathing in the faint scent he still bore even after his death, shaking and weeping and finally letting yourself be consumed by the nerves and anxiety and pure despair and self-loathing. You relished in this strange intimacy because it sobered you, comforted you, and it was then that you realized that you really cared about him, honestly, truly cared about him--not that you didn't know it before, but now it was beyond a shadow of a doubt that you did. He was the only one who ever truly listened to you (Porrim eventually got angry at you). He was the only one who was able to tolerate you (even Meulin got angry with your incessant blathering eventually). He was the only one who obeyed you (you think he might have actually finished his quests). And then you turned around

and

killed

him.

You finally pushed yourself up, ears ducked down against your face as you looked down at Cronus, who continued to stare forward in a death gaze of silence and despair. You shut his eyes first, hiccuping, and then close his mouth. You look at him--just observing him--and you smile to yourself, rubbing your face with your sleeve.

"Y-you- you look like you're-you're sl-sleeping, C-Cro---nus."

It hurt to say his name.

It hurt to say anything.

You swallow, and stand, putting each foot solidly on the ground, trembling as you reached down to grab him.

"I'm so, so sorry, oh, Cronus..."

You haul his corpse over your shoulder, feeling the cold of death permeate your shirt, into your skin and very core. You trudge your way through his world, realizing how suffocating the silence has become. There truly are no consorts. You wonder what actually happened to them. It makes his world seem very dark, and very, painfully empty. You find yourself almost painfully empty, enduring the trip in a withering timelessness. You keep on checking around you, to make sure that nothing will change, nothing will make this task impossible. You have to try.

You have to fix this.

You have to redeem yourself.

You have to make it up to Cronus. You need to apologize, you need him back.

You don't deserve his forgiveness.

 

You arrive at his quest bed, looking miserably at it, and you remove Cronus from your should, glad to be rid of his body; half-way along the journey, you realized his neck had actually snapped, and the way it lolled on your shoulder made you actually physically ill--you had to stop once to keep from throwing up in revulsion. You still felt nauseous. You laid him on the bed, folding his hands on his chest. He now looks fit for a funeral. You tremble, making a moan of remorse in the back of your throat, a sound of mourning and loss, and you look at his face, his pallid, tear-stained face. You move your face closer, and you kiss him gently, hoping that his dreamself will awake, or maybe he'll ascend, or anything. You keep hoping. You want to hope. You want him to take it; you want him to take his hope. You shake, and sob again, keeping your hands on one of his own. You kneel next to the quest bed, close your eyes, and make yet another sob.

"I'm so sorry, Cronus. Forgive me."

You simply sit there, hold his hand, and pray for a miracle.

 

==> Bard of Hope: Ascend

 

* * *

"Kan?"

You finally look up, and you almost die of relief. He's there, and he looks full of life. He's dressed in garbs of tan, yellow and white, hood down-and you feel like thats a good thing for the sake of your aesthetic appeal-and he has these two gorgeous wings on his back, and you can't even bring yourself to care about the ridiculous codpiece his outfit includes. He looks somewhat nervous, awkward, and you can still see the lingering traces of hurt in his face. The tension in his body stands as a judgment to everything you are, and you deserve it, and you are guilty. Full well guilty and deserving of all punishment ever possible. You simply squeeze your eyes shut, and sob again.

"Oh god, Cronus, forgive me-- _forgive me_ , I-I-"

You're trembling, choking and snotting and you look generally repulsive. Yet that somehow doesn't keep him from getting on his feet next to you, next to his dead body, and kneeling next to you, grabbing you and pulling you tight against him.

"Hey," He says, softly, and you whimper in the back of your throat. "Calm dowvn, Kan. I'm here now. You sawved me."

"No!" You scream against his shirt, wailing and shaking and punching his shoulders with weak fists. "No, no, no, I killed you I  _killed you_ I told you all of those terrible things I killed you I'm a murderer I killed you-"

"You vwere mad, Kan. I should'wve realized that you're my friend and you vwould newver mean those thin's. I mean, you vwere right in a vway. No one else cares. No one else cares at all." You pulled away, eyes red and puffy and bloodshot, but he's smiling at you and he's tearing up too. "But you vwouldn't mean it. You care, Kan, you revwiwved me, you sawved me. I-- I mean, yeah. Sure. It hurt. Fuck, it hurt so fuckin' bad, I vwon't deny that. I didn't evwen know you had a mean bone like that in your body. But I ovwer-reacted. I... You mean lots to me, Kan, and vwhen you said that I didn't know vwhat else to do."

"I am so, so, so-"

"I know, Kan. Com'ere."

He holds you. And you apologize. You apologize, and you weep, and you tell him how you feel, how scared you were, how bad you feel, and try to explain yourself. But he cuts you off, papping you gently, and your heart flips as you stare at him. He flushes slightly, apologizing, but you pap him back, shooshing him in reply and he stares at you with an almost shocked expression. You look away, and give him a shy smile before you bury your face into his shirt again. He just gently kisses your hair, and holds you.

When you ask him to continue rubbing your back, he does.

* * *

  

* * *

"Kan? C'mon, buddy, vwake up."

You startle, eyes wide, chest heaving and you stare up into blank white eyes. No matter how the memory ends, you always wake up riddled with guilt, because you had to remember it again, you had to remember your one true sin. He's looking down at you, concerned and maybe a little scared. You breathe out, and in, and out again, slowly with his instruction. He gives you this little grin and your heart flutters, and you smile back timidly as you form half of a diamond that he completes. You let him hold you close, and you sigh softly as he rubs circles into your back, whispering "I know, Kan, I know" and it makes you feel so much better to know that he knows what's ailing you again, and that he knows how to fix you.

Maybe someday you'll tell him how you feel, wholly and completely.

For now, you're happy with what you have. Besides, you have all the time in the world.

You are all dead, after all. And nothing else matters.

* * *

This is how an angel dies  
I blame it on my own sick pride

Maybe I should cry for help  
Maybe I should kill myself (myself)

Maybe I'm a different breed  
Maybe I'm not listening

Sail!

\-- Sail (AWOLNATION)


End file.
